A Journey Through Time
by Alexander-Alfonz
Summary: The journey had been painfully fast. Utter chaos unfolded before my perplexed eyes as my limbs felt mind-numbing pain for briefest of moments. I opened my mouth to scream; to my horror, the shrill sound had only resulted a slight buzz in my ear. It was as if I was falling through an endless abyss of darkness. Harry falls and Draco catches him in this Harry Potter AU.
1. Fall and be Caught

**Hello again~ This is an AU, as you may have noticed. Just for the heck of it, I made Draco french - just warning you. I'm going to continue this, of course. Never abandon a good idea for an AU. Reviews are appreciated, so thank you in advance~ Enjoy the story!**

 _The journey had been painfully fast. Utter chaos unfolded before my perplexed eyes as my limbs felt mind-numbing pain for briefest of moments. I opened my mouth to scream; to my horror, the shrill sound had only resulted a slight buzz in my ear. It was as if I was falling through an endless abyss of darkness. Colors flashed in splotches of excitement as I scrunched my eyes closed, overwhelmed by the chaos and the uncensored fear of death._

 _It occurred to me then._

I fell through time.

21st July, 2009. (Date I fell.)

21st July, 1597. (Date I arrived to.)

My name is Harry Potter and I fell through time. I lived in London; I'm still in London, yet in a different location. You see, instead of being in 2009, I am in 1957. When I first arrived, I was in quite a state. Wealthy aristocrats' clothes replaced mine and all belongings I had on me were gone. How did I even get myself here? Upon arrival, I had been situated at the back of (what I recognize as) the Globe theater. Fancy that. There, I had met a handsome Frenchman named Draco Malfoy who had (rather rudely, I might add) shoved me onto the inside the Globe theater stage, expecting me to introduce a play that I didn't even catch the name of! Mistrust danced in my eyes cantankerously when he whispered that it was going 'bloody' well. Thankfully, one of the members of the audience had politely informed me of the play, and unfortunately, when I asked him to elaborate on that, the audience proceeded to laugh in quite a condescending manner. I had made a fool of myself in the worst way possible, yet it amused the audience so thoroughly that they started clapping. I was guided off-stage to meet Draco, who congratulated me, handing me a suitcase and muttering something under his breath about 'foreigners'. I had asked for directions to a hotel, in which he paled in response. He probed me with his judgmental gaze, patting my back and reassuring me to just follow him. I thought he was quite 'off kilter' – if you know what I mean.

He had guided me to a mansion, declaring I stay for the period of my visit. I had thanked him immensely, promising to pay him back one day. Draco only laughed me, saying that the night must be playing tricks on me. I couldn't help but notice the carefree glint in those beautiful grey eyes, speckled with the blues of an expensive diamond. His laughter was contagious; a deep throaty chuckle occupied my thoughts, the sound bringing a sense of peace to my being. I, too, found myself starting to laugh with him. His shoulder-length platinum blond hair looked so soft – it made me burn with the urge to comb my fingers through the glamorous locks, just to see the look of contentment in his eyes.

London was going to give me a hard time.

22nd July, 1597

Today, after I had abruptly dismissed myself from breakfast with Draco, sick of his monotonous drawl, I had crossed paths with a fellow - but arrogant - brunet. He claimed to be, in a smug tone (that didn't cease to amuse me), Tom Riddle, expecting some sort of brash response. Just to wipe the arrogant smirk off his perfectly chiseled aristocratic features, I feigned ignorant of his presence and brushed him off, reluctantly exchanging pleasantries with him. Once again, a small crowd of people gathered around and laughed at me in amusement.

Is there anything else people do in London?

So far, I've been laughed at and with numerous times, earned an odd look, and hosted a play. I may as well add that I'm falling for a Frenchman. It was going – as Draco would describe – bloody well.

How does one acquire thyself in such a position?

23rd July, 1597

Today, Draco announced that we will go out to a 'party'. I did not, unfortunately, ask what said party entails, in fear of once again, being laughed at. Upon arrival at the party, I had been offered many questionable drinks. I had asked Draco what they were, earning a glance that could only be read as 'oh, my jolly god'. He then decided to pay for every drink that I'd consume at this function out of pity – if that emotion was what I saw in his beautifully hidden eyes. After one too many rounds of what Draco called 'Firewhiskey', I had stalked off, feeling extremely sick – this was the aftermath of a drinking contest with none other than Draco; it seemed impossible for him to get drunk. I made the unfortunate mistake of wandering down an abnormally dark alley, greeting a man who I had met yesterday - Tom Riddle. I had felt sick to my stomach (therefore, my lack of common sense has been forgiven) and before I could comprehend the situation, said Tom knocked me out cold and stolen my gold watch as well as my dignity. Oh great.

Draco eventually found me, earning myself another mocking laugh, but with (what I hoped was) a bit of sympathy. Note to self: Do not ever do that again. Three days. Already mobbed. And did mention that I'm falling for a Frenchman? Bloody – bloody well – it was going.

24th July, 1597

The day greeted me with a throbbing, ear-splitting hangover –thank you very much, Draco. Serves me right to go out drinking with none other than the likes of him. The only thing I accomplished today was to be served by maids and butlers and the lecture of 'fun outweighs health'.

It doesn't feel good at all.

Sleep overtook me for the next three days.

27th July 1597

I was surprised to see a sleep deprived, disheveled Draco at my side. I have finally been dismissed from being bed-ridden. A dull ache in my muscles replaced the throbbing headache from the past days. Draco's voice almost cried in relief when he saw me stir and crack one reluctant eye open.

"Harry!" he shouted, pulling me in an embrace. I couldn't help but succumb to his warm, strong arms, feeling safer than any other time in my life. How I wished to stay like this forever. My breath hitched as I felt my heart stutter excitedly in my chest at the mere possibility of being able to do that.

"Draco, I-I can't breathe," I croaked out, my voice raw from the lack of use; it didn't stop me from burying my head in the crook of his neck. He softened his hold on me almost lovingly and retracted from the embrace earning him a soft whimper from my side. Words failed to describe the emptiness I felt in my arms. He smiled; a soft curve of his lips. Something warm danced in his beautiful, blue-speckled eyes, the unusually messy, yet elegant strands of blond hair tickling his face. I couldn't help but reach out to one lock of the shoulder-length hair, the urge burning deep inside me. It's even softer than it looks – almost like the fur of a kitten. A contented sigh slipped passed my lips as I indulged in the comfort of the sentimental action of affection. "Draco?"

"I was so worried," he admitted curtly, looking down.

I couldn't help but agree with him, worried about myself. I shouldn't have slept that long from just a blow to the head. I felt a pang in my heart from the thought of making Draco worry about me, of all things. That's so selfish of me. I could see the bags under his eyes, describing a tale of sleepless nights and worry beyond words. I sighed at his self-destructive behavior disapprovingly.

"It's okay, I'm fine," a blatant lie slipped past my weary lips, my eyes diverting away from his. A bright red hue worked its way onto my cheeks; the heat in the room started to rise.

After consoling Draco for a few torturous, yet pleasant hours, I began to feel a stirring in my stomach and my bones started to feel weary and brittle. I winced, shifting on the bed. Draco noticed immediately and forced me to sleep for the rest of the day. I wanted to spend time with him, but he was such a drama queen.

That bloody Frenchman.

28th July, 1597

After a night of restless, nightmare-filled visions, I could not help but wake up at the dawn of midnight. Draco was there, scrambling from the chair to my bedside in a heartbeat. "Draco, go to sleep," I yawned, a whine slipping from my lips.  
"Not with you awake," he argued stubbornly. I could see him fighting the urge to slip his eyes shut and nod off to sleep; I grasped his hand, pulling him down, onto the bed.  
"Go to sleep," I said in a firm tone, leaving no room for argument. To my surprise, minutes after, he crawled in beside me and his eyelids locked shut. Soon after, I followed him, drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

 _The black chaos surrounded me, whirling with the dark and dreary shades of time itself. "You need to go!" a voice rasped out, screaming in desperation. "Disrupted the flow – dangerous – death – go!" The voice coughed and I was only able to catch few words as my ears filled with that familiar, ominous buzz. A shudder of trepidation crawled down my back as I felt myself falling again, and screamed despairingly, flailing my limbs to break the fall. I could not hear my pleas and cries anymore._

 _"I can't leave Draco!"  
_

29th July, 1597

"Harry, wake up!" a familiar shouted as I felt the melancholy action of slender fingers wrapping themselves around my delicate frame and shake me vigorously – almost despairingly. "Oh, for the love of - Harry!"  
I whimpered as I most reluctantly cracked an eye open, a relieved sigh leaving my lips when I realized that Draco was there, for me. "What's wrong?" I asked, perplexed at my wake-up call. A hand of Dracos' hesitantly cupped my cheek, wiping a tear that I didn't know was there.  
"You were screaming," he whispered in a small voice, barely audible, followed by the action of shuffling away. He stood up and stretched his stiff limbs, earning himself a crack as a response. He opened the curtains, letting the warm sunlight stream in. "It's a beautiful day; we should go out."

I had only enough energy to nod in agreement.

We soon arranged ourselves to be presentable enough to eat out at a small, eloquent café.

"Draco," I started, breaking the pregnant silence that had befallen between us ever since we sat down. "Do you know where I come from?" My heart – I swear – stopped for a moment, as if warning me to stop while I'm ahead.  
"No," came the simple answer as I listened to the Frenchman slip into his – all too familiar – French drawl; there was no curiosity in those beautiful blue-speckled eyes of his. It was as if he knew that the topic should be dropped just from the sheer amount of uncertainty in my voice.  
"Never mind," I brushed off, deciding to oblige Draco's request. It struck me that it was selfish of me to tell where I am from and besides – he wasn't going to believe me, was he?  
The nightmare I had replayed itself in my mind, almost taunting me with its mystery. I could feel the pinpricks of trepidation caress my skin and seep into the cracks of my mind – almost like the way weeds forcefully grow out of the cracks in the pavement.  
What did it mean? What should I do?

I need more time. I need to figure this out.

1st August, 1597

I've been busy with the last couple of days entertaining Draco as well as mulling over the nightmare – or should I call it a vision? The voice had said I needed to go back – but where? Back to the future, most probably. What didn't make much sense to me were the words I had caught. Disrupted the flow? What flow? Time. Dangerous – death. Did that mean I'll die if I don't 'go back'?

This is too confusing to think about.

"Harry, darling," Draco's melodic voice occupied my attention in the most delicious of ways; I groaned at the use of my pet name, a blush tinting my cheeks scarlet. "As much as I love that cute expression on your face when you are deep in thought, please stop. It's doesn't suit you."  
I only smiled nonchalantly in response. I wish I could stay with him longer than what I had left. I love you; I wished to say but…..it didn't seem to be able to go past my lips.

2nd August, 1597

I have collapsed.

I don't know what perplexed me more – the bells ringing in my head or the Frenchman at my side, his head in his hands, sobbing out my name and a litany of profanities and insults at anything he deemed fit. I couldn't bring myself to rouse awake; I was paralyzed.

Being stuck between the brink of death and the mighty jaws of life wasn't exactly comfortable. What was I to do?

All I can promise in whatever outcome that fate had planned for me, that I will never – I swear on my life – forget Draco. He was almost like the reason that I had the will to stay anymore. This wasn't about mild curiosity to stay in the past anymore; it was more like a need to be with my other half – Draco. A silent, acknowledged tear rolled down my flushed face as I fought against the dark abyss, my hand reaching out in utter despair. A strong, trusting hand entwined its fingers with mine – an intent to comfort was all that I knew about it. My eyes snapped open from their invisible prison to meet blue-speckled ones as I reached my unoccupied hand to his cheek, caressing the smooth, pale skin under my delicate fingers in the most loving fashion I could muster.

"I-I'm sorry," I gasped out, a cascading waterfall of tears starting their descent down my red-rimmed cheeks.  
"Harry, it's ok – I know you have to go," he comforted, wiping the tears away with the palms of those exotically perfect hands. All I could think in my mind was 'how?' but that soon was replaced by the thought 'I wanted so much more…' and I was back into my depressed reality of this being the life I was fated to lead.  
"I-I need you to know….." I fumbled with my words, a last attempt of warding off the darkness threatening to consume me and rip me away from this last comfort. Draco only looked at me with those wide, expecting eyes, biting his lip to be patient and savior this last moment. "I love you."  
"I love you too," he whispered into my ear, hot breath tickling my neck before embracing me one last time. I let myself breathe in his sandalwood scent – I'll never have anyone other than Draco.

I finally welcomed the same black chaos, disorienting me in the process. The dark shades could not look any more similar than it originally did – but – it reminded me of the colour of mourning – the sort people wore to funerals. The fall differed extremely from what I experienced when I first came; I think the appropriate name would be climb now. It felt more like a rapid ascent – like being flung towards the sky by a great force. Beads of sweat trickled down my body as my heart clenched at the thought of Draco right now, seeing me gone. He was such a mystery to me….but I loved him nonetheless.

 _I wanted something better than this…..than a post-partake confession._

 **I hoped you liked it~ I'm going to update soon, so don't worry. It's pretty short - I know and I am deeply sorry. Have some cookies~**


	2. Loneliness

**Here's the next chapter~ I hope you like it. Any reviews are appreciated. If you spot any grammatical or spelling errors, just tell me and I'll be more than happy to fix them. Cookies for everyone!**

21st July, 2009

I'm back. As much as it hurts in my heart to say those two words, it is the harsh truth of reality. I don't know what to do anymore; I feel as though part of myself has been ripped away from, disregarded as some offending material. It brings those all-too-familiar tears to my eyes; the same as the ones I cried in front of…Draco. The name feels as if there's some hidden weight to it, just like the way you'd say an old friend of yours. I can't bring myself to open my already glassy eyes; it's too hard to face the now.

A world without Draco is not a world worth living in.

I can't do this. Not now. My cowardice overpowers any ounce of bravery I have as I kneel at the ground, the pavement bringing melancholy memories to the front of my mind. I hear a voice, that voice….to whom it belongs to?

"You'll see me…too late it will be, but I am somewhere here, waiting for us to meet again except…I'm in a different life…." The familiar monotonous French drawl overpowers my sense of vulnerability, and in a last attempt to stand, I arise again from the ground, head in my hands, as my feet take me back to where I lived; my life before all this happened. Before I fell. Every ounce of my emotion turns to sorrow; it's only a matter of time before I go insane – heck… – I already am.

6th August, 2009

Why am I still like this? It's been more than a week since that day…that day I fell. I need to stop reminding myself of this – it's only burying me deeper into the abyss of depression that has clouded my rational thoughts. Ever since…..I've been living my life, with the utmost reluctance anyone could ever muster. At first, I refused to accept it – it's not real, it can't be…..I must be insane…. After two days of locking myself up in my apartment and refusing to do or see anything or anyone, I received a barrage of calls asking about my absence. It was all there – my life, my friends… It took me a while to become so aloof with everything I did and I finally accepted it. I needed to move on. Every night I tried to sleep, I woke up, the image of…..him... in my arms and whispering that proclamation of love and grief too much for me to hear. My heart longed for that French drawl to accompany me – as annoying as it was – it reminded me of him… I haven't said his name in so long; I refused to say it, for whenever I said it, it felt as though someone sliced some sick parody of a tally mark, marking it as a defeat against the depression, the grief…..

I had all that I ever wanted in my arms that time, only to be swept away by the cold reality of time and how nothing is forever.

23rd August, 2009

Ever single day is like a war. My life is a battlefield in which it tries to break down all the willpower I had invested in my veins; the memories of him are the only things that keep me sane anymore, as humorous as it sounds. Everywhere I turn, searching for those blue-speckled eyes taunts me…..They are nowhere to be found. I found myself trying to think, brooding in my usual chair, at the usual time, refusing to eat or move. I had all these questions…..How did he know I had to go? I always end up crying myself to sleep afterwards, faced with the cold slap of him so close to me.

And then I wake up again, restarting the cycle of grief and depression. It forces me to face everything and all the questions. Always the same one.

Are you ok?  
Yeah, I'm totally fine with these deceiving red-rimmed eyes and a permanent dead look in my eyes. I'm FINE.

Do they care?  
No.

It's brings a cold humor to me as something so trivial such as a question could be the only thing needed to break up that strong resolve. I need to move on…I can't be hung up on this forever.

And that's the truth I don't want to face, yet I still need to. It's only a matter of time.

8th December, 2009

Ahh, it's been a couple of months. It's been so long since I thought of him, but…..but now, he just feels like an old memory; something that has sunk down, buried underneath a strong resolve of denial. I heard a weird saying today and as I recall, the conversation went a little bit like this:

"You look as though you are in mourn of something that you refuse to face," a cold, firm tone snapped my attention back to reality, meeting the analyzing gaze of amethyst eyes. This man – whoever he was – somehow knew how I felt with just a look. Long, styled strands of black hair framed his face in an intricate manner; he was all sharp angles and personal humor – arrogance included; a strong intellectual smirk was plastered on his face as I met his hard gaze with a huff of indignity.  
"And how do you know that?" I snapped sharply, a sweeping gaze of cantankerous emotion washed across my face in an animalistic fashion; How dare he see past my guard. Who is he to know how I am feeling?!  
He only laughed at my response; a cold and hollow chuckle, devoid of warmth – almost condescendingly – then narrowed his eyes into slits at me in utter seriousness. He regarded me closely, a wave of indifference accompanying his every move. "Someone told me denial is some sort of cruel parody of emotional cancer. You either cut it out – or die."  
His features softened then, the first warm emotion I've seen from this stranger.  
"I'm a psychiatrist; I notice these things. I'm sorry if I stepped into your personal life, I was merely marking an important observation and by the looks of it, you needed it. You can thank me later."  
With that, he turned away and blended himself into the crowds; a silent goodbye.

I was left wondering the same thing. I need to stop the denial.

21st July, 2010

It's the anniversary of my meeting with…him; it's been a hard, struggling year for me. Every day, I can feel myself slip into the grip of insanity that has already wound itself into my life; I was blind to succumb to the feeling of hopelessness in my thoughts – as if I was drowning myself in a pool of my own misery. I, surprisingly, don't feel that weight on my shoulders when I think of him anymore; instead, I feel a fluttery jump in my chest as I remember the warmth in his beautiful grey eyes that held the glints of blue from an expensive diamond – I remember that jittery fear I had of losing him when he embraced me, holding my delicate frame flush against his – I remember that confession.

"I love you too," he whispered into my ear, hot breath tickling the sensitive skin on my neck before he embraced me one last time.  
One last time.

I've stared out of this cold window everyday; it has become a ritual of mine whenever I thought of him… It's not fair – why couldn't I stay there, in 1597? I still remember those words I thought distinctly in my mind when I left him -

A life without Draco is not worth living.

To me, it's true; every word of it – as insane as it sounds. I've made up my mind. I'd rather die than suffer through this grief that I've learned to let myself get caught up in. A knife clutched in my trembling right hand, I've accepted my fate. Without a second thought, I plunged the knife deep into my chest – the root of all my pain; I accepted the darkness of peace with open arms.

One last needy breath escaped my bitten lips as I allowed myself to say his name.

"Draco…"

 _"What have you done?!" a voice shouted, laced with anger – a voice that I haven't heard for a year._  
 _"Draco….?" I said his name hesitantly; the word felt foreign on my tongue after the many months I refused myself to speak it – even think it. It had a certain burden attached to it; a piece of my heart had been permanently sewn onto it._  
 _"You idiot! Death won't accomplish you anything – didn't you figure that out?" the cantankerous voice hissed, dripping with venom._  
 _"Wait, what?" I asked, oblivious and dumbfounded to the very question; it was as if he was speaking a foreign language. I simply did not understand._  
 _"I'm here, somewhere – I'm in a different life than before," he stated in an informative tone, anger cooling down._  
 _"How…..?" My eyes twinkled; after a year of pain and loneliness, I had hope for the first time in forever._  
 _"Re-incarnation," he left, the French drawl echoing itself away into the shades._

24th July, 2010

I woke up in an empty hospital bed – typical; clinical, boxed-in walls surrounded me like a prison as I heard the steady beep of a monitor next to me. I've learnt to be not surprised by whatever happens – so much has happened already that I'm sick of being surprised by everything. Hence, I've just learned to accept it. Did I just say 'hence'? I guess I still think I'm in 1597. Idiot. I let myself lay there, eyes open. Words tumbled themselves over in my mind as I heard the voices in my mind repeating that conversation – almost mocking me.

I'm here somewhere. I'm in a different life.

Why didn't I figure it out sooner? I'm an idiot. It was all there for me, laid out to figure out but I was too trapped in my own misery to notice or care. All that mattered was how I felt – I was so selfish. A wave of guilt thudded in my chest as I looked at my abdomen; a row of stitches lined themselves across it – intricately holding the skin together.

I've survived.

It was somehow all there for me – done like a puzzle. A certain click of the door signaled someone's presence and I tensed up on the bed, bolting upright. A certain flash of amethyst eyes caught mine before I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I tore one of stitches. A wave of curses fell from my regularly bitten lips and the owner of the amethyst eyes 'tsked' unapprovingly.

"You, of all people should know better," a familiar, hollow voice greeted me and my ears twitched at the sound – heat rushed to them uncontrollably. I refused to answer him as I saw the black strands of hair combed into that same hairstyle I saw him in almost half a year ago. "You look horrible."  
"That's nice." My voice dripped with sarcasm as I huffed at the man. "I'm insane. Leave me alone."  
"It's great that you're insane," he chuckled coldly – his voice was devoid of emotion. "I'm a psychiatrist; don't you remember when we met?"  
"Go away – I don't need you," I insisted irritably. "I'm insane enough as it is."  
"Alright – I'll discharge you," he snickered all of the sudden, as if in his own private joke. "After your wounds heal. All that I'm going to say from the look on your face is that death is a worthless accomplishment. It's only a matter of time before you are forced to die again and again – might as well make this one count."

I looked at him incredulously – wondering idly – what the hell he meant.

8th September, 2010

I was discharged from the hospital – just like he promised. The wounds healed – of course – but my mind was restless.

Re-incarnation.

The doctor implied it in a philosophical way, but it made sense with what Draco said to me when I was asleep. I have hope now; I just hope that it isn't false. So, if what they both said is true, Draco is alive. Somewhere, someplace, sometime.

I need to find him.


	3. We Meet Again

**Hey~ I'm sorry that this is so short, but I really had no idea what to go on with this. I've been having writer's block lately and no inspiration. It's hard T-T Again, I'm super sorry to end it like this. Uhhh...it's horrible.**

25th December, 2010

Another year in the passing. I wish I was with Draco right now so he could see the beauty of the snow falling on the streets of London. It all looks so beautiful – serene. I've looked everywhere in London for him but there is no trace of him anywhere. No one's ever heard of the name, Draco. No one. At least no one I asked. It's only today that I felt a flicker of recognition as I trudged through the narrow streets of London – my mind was working away at the narrow alley. Where was this? In an abrupt fashion, I stop in my tracks and feel the weight of being able to know when I was here, why I was here, and how I was here. Was this the alley where I got knocked out? It had to be. The color of the walls, the closeness of it all – it had to be. I noticed a certain dark smudge on one of the cracks in the wall. My feet led me to it for closer inspection. It looked very dark – like old dried blood. Wait, no….is this my blood….? It can't be – it has been five centuries for God's sake….! Blood can't last that long. Can it? I don't know….. Huffing in confusion and annoyance, I turn around; the clogs in my head were spinning rapidly, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

If this is the alley I got knocked out, that must mean…..the bar Draco brought me to should be around here – if it was still here. Without processing my movements, I found myself running towards the end of the alley, tracing my drunken steps that night. Hope glittered my eyes I scanned the buildings; this was it. My heart leaped in my chest in a punishing rhythm as I stumbled in front of some steps that looked horrifically familiar to the ones of that bar. I read the open sign and took a moment to compose myself – this might be just a coincidence; I can't expect much. I pushed open the creaky door and greeted a number of different faces; their voices were hauntingly familiar. I took a seat at the wooden bar filled with many bottles of who knows what they could be. Ranging from Jack Daniels to some type of expensive wine, I huffed at the melancholy of it all.

"Would you like something to drink, sir?" a hauntingly familiar drawl called from in front of me. My eyes shot up at the sound immediately and met pearls of mercury mixed with aged blues that sparkled with light. The familiar mop of long, blond hair were almost taunting me by being there. This can't be Draco. How? What? Why?  
"Sir? What do want?" the French drawl asked again, brows creasing at my mysterious behavior. There's no denying it – this was him.  
"You," I breathed out after a long pause, locking eye contact. He smirked that all-too-familiar smirk that was robbed from me. He let out a low chuckle from deep in his throat as he took off his uniform apron and set it down on the bench.  
"Two shots of Firewhiskey for us!" he called out to the other bartenders, waving his hand to gain their attention. One nodded in understanding, almost as if this was common practice. He got out from the bar, striding over to my side and sitting down.  
"You look hauntingly familiar," were the words he said before I embraced him, taking every ounce of comfort that he had to offer.  
"I've missed you," I whispered into his ear as a small tear escaped from my eye. "I'll never let you go again."

He lifted my face up from his shoulders and cradled it in his hands, wiping away the tears that rid of the loneliness that ripped my apart. With hesitant lips, he slowly pressed his lips onto mine - a kiss that held so many indescribable meanings. He ravished my mouth with his tongue when I gasped in surprise at the action and I leaned into the kiss, deepening it considerably. Our bodies wound up with each other and we felt each other's scents mingling, creating the scent of each other. Us. Forever.

 **Well, that's the end. I'm not going to continue this. I might write a sequel to this...just maybe but it's too early to say. I haven't got any good ideas for this anyway, so if you could recommend any ideas for this, that would be great! Thank you all so much ^^**


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